


Emeralds // Green

by diaryofageekgirl



Series: Femslash February 2021: All That Glitters... [3]
Category: Ghostfacers - Fandom, Supernatural
Genre: Case Fic, Collage, Cover Art, F/F, Femslash February, Fluff and Angst, post-Ghostfacers (web series)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 20:34:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29320242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diaryofageekgirl/pseuds/diaryofageekgirl
Summary: An irate ghost brings Maggie and Ambyr out to Rhode Island. The ghost isn't the only thing irate - Ambyr's been acting off for a while, now. Maggie just can't figure out what to do about it.
Relationships: Ambyr/Maggie Zeddmore
Series: Femslash February 2021: All That Glitters... [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2140926
Comments: 5
Kudos: 4





	Emeralds // Green

**Author's Note:**

> I have _such_ a soft spot for the Ghostfacers, guys. I love them.
> 
> We're just gonna pretend #thinman didn't happen, m'kay?

Maggie tapped her pen against the book she was reading, biting her lip. She stole glances across the motel room out of the corner of her eye every now and again as she researched. She tried not to be overly concerned about Ambyr, but her partner was currently making that difficult.

Harry and Ed had found a couple of hauntings that had started acting up around the same time, which meant the team had needed to split up to deal with them. The boys went down to Nebraska, while the girls headed out to Rhode Island. Maggie had offered to take care of their ghost by herself, but Ambyr had been… insistent, to put it kindly, about taking part.

It had been a rough couple of months for all of them. Spruce had decided that the paranormal investigation world wasn’t for him following Janet Meyers’ case, and he ended up leaving the group shortly after that night. Ed, still dealing with everything that had happened with Corbett, blamed himself for his death, for Spruce leaving, for Ambyr getting hurt. It had taken a great deal of convincing from both Maggie and Harry to get him to stay with the group.

Even though they were the only two who were still totally on board with the Ghostfacers, Maggie and Harry’s relationship had sort of crumbled. They hadn’t ever really been together in the first place – they mostly just occasionally made out during investigations – but the Janet Meyers case had been the last straw. Between needing to be there for her step-brother and her own guilt over making out with Harry instead of paying attention to the ghost while it attacked their teammate, she called it quits.

There may have been a few pointed words about him needing to sort out his priorities. The boys could insult the so-called “Lose-chesters” all they wanted, but Maggie thought they had the right idea. No more exploiting tragic deaths and dangerous creatures for the sake of media fame. Instead, they decided to learn all that they could about ghosts and spirits and stop them from hurting anybody else. They still wrote articles about their cases on their website, but now it had turned into a genuine source of information and education.

And Ambyr… physically, her recovery had gone well. She’d gotten out of the hospital after only a week, but the scars left from Janet’s ghost wouldn’t ever fully go away. On top of that, she had gotten quiet. Distant. A bit snappish with people, too. Maggie figured that that sort of reaction was only reasonable, considering the circumstances, but the longer it went on for, the more concerned she got. Ambyr had said she was quitting the Ghostfacers after she got attacked, but once she left the hospital she had stubbornly said that she was staying with them.

Maggie glanced over at the desk on the far side of the room again, watching Ambyr as she read over the files they’d picked up. The ghost they were chasing down was eerily similar to Janet Meyers – a young aspiring starlet from the ‘40s, who’d been taken advantage of and abused by some douchey, over-controlling man in her life. Though in her case it was her former agent, not her husband. Some of her possessions had been donated to a local museum, which in turn resulted in the museum staff being harassed by her irate spirit.

The drive out there had been tense; Ambyr had been locked in a stony silence, and Maggie couldn’t figure out what to say or do that would help. She had also stayed quiet on the car ride, keeping her head down as she went over the information they had so far for their investigation. That, and surreptitiously text her brother. Kind of like she was doing now.

**_She still isn’t talking._ **

_Did you try talking to her first?_

**_A bit, in the car. She didn’t respond so I stopped. What do I do?_ **

_I don’t know, I don’t speak girl._

**_😒_ **

_Just… you remember how I was after_

**_After…?_ **

_Alan_

**_Ah._ **

_Just give her some time. She’ll be fine, she’s tough._

Maggie chewed at her nails as she stewed over her brother’s advice. She shot another look over at Ambyr. This time, Ambyr looked back at her. Maggie’s eyes widened and her pulse thumped as she was caught red-handed. Ambyr’s gaze narrowed and her eyes got colder.

“Allison Maybrook was cremated.” Ambyr turned back to the table, deliberately not looking at Maggie anymore. “There’s got to be something at the museum that she’s still attached to.”

Maggie swallowed roughly. “R-right. Um. We can call the museum curator, see if he’ll let us poke around there later?”

“You do that.”

Maggie stared at Ambyr’s back for a second, stunned. After a long moment, she turned away and grabbed her phone. As she stood to make the call outside the motel room, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d done something wrong.

* * *

Maggie and Ambyr stood side-by-side, breath puffing out in the cold of the night. Maggie burrowed her hands into her pockets and tried futilely to keep them warm. The museum’s curator, a short balding man in his 50s, unlocked the door of the museum for them.

“Listen, I’m not much one for superstition. But I’m also not a fool, and I can’t deny what’s been happening right in front of our eyes. If there’s anything you ladies can do to help, then by all means, please do.”

Ambyr pushed past them and strode into the museum with a single-minded purpose. Maggie gave her a worried glance, then turned back to the curator and shot him a tight smile. “Thank you, Mr. Donahan. We’ll do our best.”

Mr. Donahan nodded back at her and tucked his keys back in his pocket. She watched him walk down the sidewalk for a ways. Eventually, she sighed, resigned, and followed Ambyr into the museum.

“Museum” was probably a generous term; the town only had a population of about 1500, and the museum was more of a retrospective of the town’s history. Allison Maybrook was basically the only person from the town who’d ever made it big, which of course meant that they were immensely proud of that fact. She had a small exhibit all to herself in the museum.

Ambyr was already at there, looking over the exhibit for whatever information they needed. From what Maggie could tell, there wasn’t much there that her ghost could have been attached to; most of the items there were replicas of costumes and photographs and stills from the handful of films she’d done. She glanced over at Ambyr, whose attention had been drawn to the stand in the middle of the room. Maggie followed her gaze.

An incredibly fancy necklace of emerald and zircon sat on a model stand, with its own miniature spotlights pointed at it, making the stones sparkle. Maggie stepped closer and investigated the stand for some kind of plaque or nameplate. Her fingers brushed a raised section of the stand. She craned her head around the corner to read it.

“This necklace was given as a gift to Allison Maybrook in 1943, from her then-agent Richard Houston. Miss Maybrook’s superstitious nature had led her to believe that the necklace was cursed. Every time she wore it, she claimed that a tragedy befell a member of her family. This claim is as of yet unsubstantiated.” Maggie straightened up. “Well, I guess we know what she’s attached to.”

No sooner had the words left her mouth than the temperature of the room dropped by at least ten degrees. Their breath puffed out before them once more; Maggie was pretty sure it was actually warmer outside than in at that point. Ambyr whipped an EMF meter out of her jacket pocket. She barely got it turned on before it was shrieking and lighting up. Maggie tensed, reaching inside her own jacket for her mini crowbar and holding it before her defensively.

“Augh!” Maggie’s stomach lurched as she was thrown across the room. She crashed heavily into another display case; thankfully, the museum decided to use hollow stands, otherwise she would’ve bruised something fierce. She pushed herself up on her elbows and fumbled to get her feet under her. She whipped her head around to see Ambyr similarly tossed to the side, the incorporeal form of Allison Maybrook standing over her. She stumbled upright and charged the ghost with her crowbar. Allison spun just fast enough to see her coming, but not fast enough to get out of the way. With a shriek, she dissipated.

Maggie panted. “That won’t hold her off for long.” She held a hand down to Ambyr to help her up. “Come on – we’ve gotta get this necklace dealt with.”

Ambyr stared up at her, then pushed off of the ground, completely ignoring her offered hand. A spike of annoyance went through Maggie, but she brushed it off and turned to catch up with her partner. Whatever was eating her, they could deal with _after_ they dealt with the ghost.

Mr. Donahan had already disabled the museum’s security alarms for them, and he had given them a copy of his keys, so they had no issue opening up the display case for the necklace. Ambyr carefully lifted the haunted jewellery out of the case. Maggie froze.

“Wait,” she said. “Don’t we have to salt and burn whatever the ghost is still attached to?”

Ambyr lifted an eyebrow at her. “Yeah. So?”

“I don’t think this is gonna burn that well from a lighter.”

For the first time since the hospital, Maggie saw a glimpse of the old Ambyr as she furrowed her brow at the necklace, the cute little pout on her lips and crinkle of her chin looking so much like the bubbly girl they’d met only a few short months ago. All too soon it was gone, replaced with the harder demeanour she’d been displaying since then.

“Any ideas?”

“I have a blowtorch in my car?” She squirmed under the perturbed look Ambyr gave her. “It’s in case of emergencies, okay? My mom made sure we had them – Ed’s got one too.”

“Do you think that’ll be enough?” Ambyr asked, already starting to make her way out of the museum. Maggie sighed and followed her.

“It’s gonna have to be,” she grumbled.

A few minutes later, they found themselves in the museum’s parking lot. Maggie fumbled with her keys, trying to get her cold fingers to cooperate enough to unlock her car. Ambyr crouched a few feet away, dumping rock salt onto the necklace on the pavement. Maggie heard her gasp, then choke. Allison had caught up with them again. She couldn’t risk looking over at Ambyr to make sure she was okay and lose time. She forced herself to ignore Ambyr’s choking, repeating in her head that _she can handle herself_. A whoosh and a sudden stinging cold wind suggested that Ambyr had managed to dispel Allison’s spirit for a moment.

“Come on, Maggie!” She called. In a fit of frustration, Maggie finally managed to jam the key into the door. She fell over the seat and popped open the glove compartment; a bunch of spare napkins and a couple of maps fell out, blocking the light. She growled and shoved them haphazardly out of the way and dug around for the blowtorch.

She heard a hiss of water from behind her; none of the team was familiar with firearms, so instead of rock salt shotgun shells, they stocked up on Super Soakers filled with salt water. As long as the salinity was high enough, they were just as effective at scaring ghosts off.

She got a grip on the blowtorch, and she flung herself out of the car, bolting towards the necklace. Allison was back, not deterred much by the iron or salt they carried. In their rush, they’d forgotten to lay down a salt circle around the necklace. Maggie internally cursed her lack of foresight as she stuttered to a stop before the necklace and dropped to her knees.

“Keep her busy!” she called over her shoulder. She pulled the trigger on the blowtorch and jumped a bit at the blue-hot flame that burst out. She took a quick but deep breath to steady herself, then brought the flame to the necklace. She watched the metal blacken and bubble, not nearly as quickly as she’d like, but at least she wasn’t going to need to hold it there all night. She heard more of Ambyr’s grunts and coughs in pain behind her as Allison attacked her, but she forced herself not to look.

A minute or two later, and a crackle of energy sparked from the remains of the necklace. She heard the shrieking and burning of the spirit behind her, and Maggie knew it was over. She slumped in relief, turning off the blowtorch. She looked down at the puddle of molten metal and burnt gems. She hoped that wouldn’t be too much of an issue with the museum.

She pushed herself up with a grunt and stepped over to Ambyr, who was still flat on her back on the pavement, breathing heavily. She held a hand out to her again, and again she was ignored. The frustration flared up again, but this time there was no distraction from it.

“Alright, what the hell, Ambyr!” she bit out. Ambyr didn’t turn to face her, but she saw the other woman’s shoulders tense. “You’ve been acting like a real bitch since Illinois. You’ve barely talked to anybody, and when you _have_ decided to talk to us you’ve been snappy and distant. What they hell’s gotten into you?!”

Maggie wished she could take the words back the moment they left her mouth. She felt her heart clench as Ambyr slowly turned to face her.

“What’s gotten _in to me_?” she demanded. Maggie was shocked to see tears falling from her eyes, streaming down her cheeks, directly along the path of the scars Janet had left behind. She started to extend a hand, tentatively.

“Ambyr, I-I –”

“What do you _think’s_ gotten into me!” Ambyr sniffed and rubbed the tears away, but the dam had broken. Her voice was thick and she struggled to speak around the sobs. “I know you think I’m stupid – I know you all think I’m stupid. That I’m just some dumb bimbo blonde who’s only here because the guys think I’m hot, or whatever. But I really was interested when I started that internship! And then that _stupid_ case with _stupid_ Janet, and I know you guys think I can’t handle it, but I can! I’m not useless! I can do this!” Her voice had gone hoarse by the end. Her expression crumbled, and she buried her face in her hands.

“I don’t think you’re stupid,” Maggie said, completely on autopilot. She saw Ambyr’s face just lift enough from her hands to look up at her, wide-eyed and confused. “I never thought you were stupid. I mean, maybe I was a bit of a jerk when you first joined because of how the guys were acting, but that’s more of a judgment of their intelligence than yours.” She stepped a little closer and gently touched one of Ambyr’s wrists. “And what made you think that we thought you couldn’t handle it?”

Ambyr sniffled again. “I know you guys were planning on ending the group – Spruce already left, and Ed didn’t want to anymore… I thought you all just thought I wasn’t worth it.”

Alright, enough was enough. Maggie wrapped her arms around Ambyr and squeezed tight. She tucked her face into the crook of her neck. She felt Ambyr’s body shudder, and a moment later a fresh round of sobbing started. She just stayed there, holding her and gently rubbing her back, waiting until there were no more tears to cry.

Once Ambyr’s sobs started to peter out, she pulled back a bit to look at her directly. “No one quit because of you. There’s… a lot’s happened with this group, and we had to rethink our priorities, but none of it was because we thought you couldn’t handle it.” She swallowed, her own throat feeling tight now. “I’m sorry for whatever part I played in that.”

A long moment of silence followed. After a while, Ambyr pulled out of Maggie’s arms and wiped the tears from her face. “I’m okay,” she mumbled.

“It’s okay if you aren’t.” Maggie leaned in and kissed her cheek. An instant later, she reared back, eyes wide and face hot. She really hadn’t meant to do that, and certainly not when Ambyr was so emotionally messed up. “Sorry, I didn’t – well, I did, but - I mean –”

Except… Ambyr didn’t look upset. Her eyes were also wide, and a soft blush stained her cheeks.

“You… but I thought – you and Harry?” She stammered.

Maggie shrugged awkwardly. “We broke up a while ago – I mean, we weren’t really “together” in the first place, but –”

Her rambling screeched to a halt as she felt Ambyr’s lips at the corner of her mouth. Her face was totally on fire now, and she stared at Ambyr, unblinking, her brain turned to mush. Ambyr gave her a tiny, shy smile, the happiest she’d looked since Janet.

“Yeah?” Maggie swallowed. She sent a tiny smile back at Ambyr.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” She reached out and laced her fingers through Ambyr’s. They walked like that back to the car. Maggie stashed the blowtorch back in the glove compartment, while Ambyr pulled out a garbage bag to scoop up the remnants of the necklace in. They dropped the spare keys off at the front desk of the museum, and then they headed back to the motel, still holding hands. Maggie ran her thumb over Ambyr’s knuckles and glowed when she felt her squeeze her fingers.

Maybe they weren’t quite okay yet, but they would be, and they’d get there together.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: Emeralds have heavy religious associations, and are said to prevent sickness and aid in fertility. They also symbolize memory, luck, and telling the future. Significant to this story, they also are said to reveal the truth.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
